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Best Poems Written by Jordan Peralta

Below are the all-time best Jordan Peralta poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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HEAVEN

The playing field is even now;
Everything is fair.
Did you know since I’ve been gone
I haven’t felt despair?
I just received my angel wings
And flew through heaven’s gate.
Everything is whole again;
I’ve finally cleaned my slate.
The light looks really different here,
The air is fresher too.
Everyone is happy now—
It all looks so brand new.
I sat upon a rainbow’s curve
And looked along its bend.
It greeted me so graciously
And said it’d be my friend.
It said that it’d watch o’er you
And visit very soon.
“Don’t worry much,” it promised me,
“The rain will pass by noon.”
I know things feel confusing now,
And I’m sad you’re stuck on earth.
But know that I will wait for you
Until your own rebirth.
I’ll save a special seat for you,
Right here next to me.
And when your day has finally come,
My heart will sing with glee.

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THANK YOU TO A FRIEND

Thank you, dear friend, poetry, for the way you speak my thoughts.
The way they turn to harmony—without you, they're all knots.
You put words into rhythm and sing them into songs;
You weigh them on a scale and sort the rights and wrongs.
Thank you for allowing me to share what's on my mind,
For saying all the things I think; I know they aren't all kind.
Thank you for befriending me and letting me express—
All my feelings, all my sadness, especially my stress.
Thank you, dear friend, poetry, for how you comfort me;
It's like hearing my own lullaby, I like the way you sing.
No pressure to explain myself, or justify my reason;
You give me all the space I need—I visit you in season.
Thank you, dear friend, poetry, for gifting me your mask.
You've never made me take it off; you'll never even ask.
Thank you to my friend, for sharing with your heart,
For noticing when mine goes out, and helping me re-start.

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DAMAGED

Withered like an old book,
mishandled too many times.
She avoids herself,
like she does the nightmares he left with her.
Like the sun without her blaze.
Someone took the light from her
long before she knew it was gone.
Her anger, powerful like waves—
untamable and infinite.
She found bliss in the sound of thunder,
while others fear the storm.
Sadness seemingly aches around her feet,
and she hopelessly watches it cripple her entirely.
A flower, robbed of her innocence and delicacy.
Her emotions extinguished
by people who never fully understood.
She was no longer fueled by grace and tenderness,
but by the void,
in a sea of darkness and chaos.
To the world, she holds it all together:
composed and tranquil,
lost to herself and everyone surrounding.
She was invisible—
and she could no longer be found.

Details | Jordan Peralta Poem

26

Twenty-six years, I've stored every thought;
Mentally captivated, they're here till I rot.
I'll keep them safe, on the heart of my sleeve;
Deep in my flesh—they cannot leave.
Twenty-six years, they've been through it all;
They've seen good days, and each time I fall.
Years down the road, they still won't be free,
And I'll still hold them dearly at eighty-three.
I'll play them back when I'm old and alone,
And remember the love, the bonds that were sewn.
I'll see my children, playing once more,
And desperately long for a day they were four.
Twenty-six years, I've stored every thought,
For no other reason than I like them a lot.
I've measured the space in the heart that's in me,
And there's plenty of room; not one will stray free.
Twenty-six years, I've meticulously stored thought.
These are the small things that cannot be bought.
I'll keep them safe, no matter the time;
I'll keep them forever—these thoughts are all mine.

Details | Jordan Peralta Poem

WITHOUT DAD

The days are dark, and things are scary now.
I need someone to tell me it's okay, but you're not around.

These feelings are strange, and they're freaking me out.
If this is a trick, now's a good time to come out.

Don't tell me this is real.
Don't say that it's so.
You said you'd never leave me;
I don't want you to go.

Tell me a story-the one where you stay.
Can you tell it and make it last all day?
Repeat it again and again and again, please-just please—
I don't want it to end.

Can you check under my bed for monsters once more, and nurture my "owie" when I fall on the floor?
Lecture and yell as loud as you can— today I'd listen;
I'll be your biggest fan.

Dad, come out wherever you are.
I can't see you,
but I know you're not far.
I need a hug and a laugh to share.
Please come out— this game isn't fair.

I'm looking and searching, high and low.
I don't want to believe it;
I won't let you go.

Dad, come out-
can we play another game?
A life without you can never be the same.

There's a void in my chest, in my head, and in life.
Tell me you're playing—end all this strife.

Dad, come back.
I don't want you gone.
Just stay a bit longer, until the end of the song.

I'll play it again, again and again,
until my ears start to bleed or time starts to bend.

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FIXING MAN

They tell me you’re the fixing man,
so can you fix me too?

Can you check my engine light?
I think I’ve blown a fuse.

Can you turn your ear this way
just a second more?

Can you tell me I’m not tainted,
like how I was before?

Please weld my body, make me new;
I need new tires too.

They’re all worn out and rugged now—
I hope that’s not taboo.

Maybe it’s my head gasket—
don’t ask what that’s been through.

I’ll need a filter—sorry, it’s gone bad;
I say what it wants me to.

My doors are all jammed up,
but know they used to work just fine.

I once tried to get them fixed,
but wouldn’t trade my time.

My windshield has been broken;
I can’t remember how.

I just want to get it fixed,
so could you try it now?

I’m just asking for some tuning up;
I swear I’ll leave soon after.

Please make me better, fixing man—
will you be my crafter?

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Craftsman

You've been searching for a craftsman to build you up with clay.
So I'll sculpt you with my love as I sit upon the brae.
I'll gaze up at the sunshine and talk to God; I'll say,
"Just what were you thinking when you molded her this way?"
Did you know that she—had breaks along her back?
Or when she feels sadness—her heart begins to crack?
Do you know her head—was hollowed far too thin?
There's too much room for thought; she keeps it all within.
Her feet have chipped from walking, her eyes—they see too much.
She doesn't even recognize she has the magic touch.
You could've made her stronger, at least along the rim.
Or maybe even built a smile; you could've shaped a grin.
You should've added color—a little sunshine too!
Maybe then she'd take the chance to see what she can do.
For now, I'll just keep sculpting;
I'll fill the cracks with love.
I promise not to change the girl or change what she's made of.
I’ll just soften out the sad parts, so that she can shine.
And one day she will know —that she was made just fine.

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TO BE

I want to be loved
without words or response,
to be held
in respect and sweet nonchalance.

Oh, to be seen
by the wounds on my heart,
understood
the way one understands art.

I want to be touched
the way paper meets pen,
gently written on
again and again.

I want to be sheltered
like a bulletproof vest—
to have a place
where I can finally rest.

I want to belong
like a fish in the sea.
I want to be wanted
for simply being me.

Details | Jordan Peralta Poem

Time Machine

If I could build a time machine,
the first thing that I’d do
is travel back in time
and go to see you.

I’d swoop you up so swiftly
and hug you really tight.
I’d tell you that I love you —
how I can’t sleep at night.

I’d hold you in my arms
‘til I’m forced to let you go,
and sit and pray to God
that I’ll get to see you grow.

I’d tell you that I’m sorry
for all the small things I regret,
and how I keep replaying
the first day that we met.

I think I’d stay forever
in this perfect time and place,
in this perfect little bubble
where I get to see your face.

If I could build a time machine,
I would not go far away.
I’d bend time just enough
for a chance to see you stay.

I wouldn’t change much more,
just place the light back in your heart.

Just a small bend in time
for a small chance to restart.

Best Poems Written by Jordan Peralta

HEAVEN

THANK YOU TO A FRIEND

DAMAGED

26

WITHOUT DAD

FIXING MAN

Craftsman

TO BE

Time Machine

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